One Time Thing
by clinically.repressed
Summary: Hermione returns to Hogwarts after Voldemort is defeated as Head Girl, but this time she's without her closest friends. Her patience and forgiveness will be pushed to the limits by a lonely and confused boy who's crossed enemy lines, Draco Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione sat quietly on a bench, her chin resting carefully on the palm of her hand. She gazed without seeing as Muggles wandered by pushing loaded trolleys and carrying on with their lives. She couldn't help but think that she should be doing the same.

Hermione was one of the few people who would be returning to Hogwarts this next year. After the trauma of the war many people felt it was best to keep their families together or even leave the country, but she disagreed with that notion. Besides, her family was still in Australia on 'vacation' where they would stay until she deemed it safe to return. Following Voldemorts demise were a series of attacks in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds by the remaining Deatheaters, and a good portion of the Wizarding World still questioned if the Dark Lord had actually been beaten by famous Harry Potter that faithful night. Hermione had even heard some conspirators claim that the Ministry of Magic had in fact faked it all, despite the many eye-witness accounts of Voldemorts downfall.

A glance at her wristwatch told Hermione that it was about time to start boarding the train, so she stood and began a nonchalant stroll towards a rectangular brick pillar separating Platforms 9 and 10. She pushed the trolley faster as she neared the barrier, and made a smooth transition directly through the brick wall onto the busy platform of the Hogwarts Express train. It was quieter this year, Hermione noticed as thick puffs of steam rose from the long train. Children were solemnly parting ways with their parents and younger siblings, avoiding contact with other families. She silently made her way towards the train to store her trunk, then climbed on and went to find a compartment. For the first time, Hermione had boarded the Hogwarts Express without a parents kiss goodbye, or a suffocating hug from Mrs. Weasley, or even a best friend to ride with. After finding a compartment fairly quickly, Hermione settled down in the far corner with a large tomb on Advanced Arithmancy but was too distracted to pay it any attention.

Harry and Ron wouldn't be coming back to Hogwarts with her this year. Harry had immediately been offered a post as an Auror Trainee by Kingsley Shacklebolt following his defeat of Voldemort which he had accepted, but only after thinking it over carefully. He was still weary in trusting the Ministry after everything that had happened, but being an Auror had always been Harrys dream job. In the end he had decided to take it, a contributing factor being that he wouldn't have to return to Hogwarts the following year. It would have caused him too much pain.

Ron on the other hand had felt an allegiance towards his brother George, and decided to stay behind to help run the shop.

"Finishing school is overrated anyways, 'Mione. George really shouldn't be left alone right now." He had told her, and she didn't have the heart to argue with him. She didn't have the heart to do much of anything these days. Even though Hermione knew deep inside that she loved Ron, there was something keeping it locked away and hidden. After everything ended, there was an awkward feel between the two of them. Ron had lost a close loved one, they had both lost so many friends, yet she couldn't be of any comfort to him. She couldn't even comfort herself anymore with the thought that everything would be okay, because she knew that for many people it never would. Her will to live was infinitely weakened by life during 'The Dark Days'. That name for the time period of Voldemorts reign always struck Hermione as strange, not because it was unfitting at all but because they used it in past tense. People spoke about it like it was over, but Hermione's days still felt dark.

Her other friend Ginny, Rons younger sister, was in fact returning to Hogwarts for her 7th year. She had informed her though, that her return would be postponed for another few weeks because her training with the Holyhead Harpies over the summer break wouldn't be finished until then. Ginny had attended the tryouts for a Seeker position on the team and would have gotten it, but she was still under age so she was put in as a reserve until she turned 17 and finished her education.

Feeling that the train was beginning its long trek to Hogwarts, Hermione shoved her unread textbook into her bag and slid open the compartment door to go hunt down the Prefects compartment. She had meant to go straight there, but it seemed to be habitual for her to go there only after finding a compartment with her friends first. Of course, there were no friends with her now.

It was where it always had been, at the very front of the train only after the conductor himself. It was very spacious, being without any dividing rooms as in the rest of the train, with plenty of room for the twenty four Prefects, two of which were Head Boy and Girl. Head Girl this year was, of course, Hermione Granger herself. Hermione wished she was more excited to have been bestowed such an honor, but when she had imagined herself in this position as a first year it hadn't been quite as bittersweet as in reality. She just wished to get through this year quickly.

There were a few faces that immediately caught her attention. Anthony Goldstein, 7th year Prefect, was sitting cross armed in the corner. His blonde hair had grown longer and now curled over his brooding eyes. She did not see Padma Patil, Anthony's Prefect counterpart. Ernie Macmillan stood proudly next to Hannah Abbot, his hand wrapped tightly around hers. He had already turned his focus to Hermione, wearing a look of deep determination as if Hermione was about to tell them their next battle strategies rather than simply their patrolling schedules. Neville Longbottom was sitting nearby, looking more sure of himself than Hermione had ever seen. His attention was also focused on her, but in a more friendly way than Ernie.

Pansy Parkinson was expectedly absent, but Hermione froze as her eyes passed over a lone figure on the far side of the room. His legs were bent and feet resting across the cushioned bench, back against the wall. Long silver-blond hair hung in front of his face, no longer slicked back flat against his head like it had been when they were children. Sitting there, on the same train he had ridden for the last six years, was Draco Malfoy; Death Eater extraordinaire. A second passed, and Malfoy slowly looked up at her with piercing gray eyes, making Hermione's heart skip a beat. Why was Draco Malfoy here? He was a _Death Eater _for crying out loud! A dirty, heartless, unforgivable murderer. Malfoy seemed to sense her negative feelings towards him, and quickly snapped his gaze back down to his stiff hands. On Malfoy's cloak was pinned a shiny gold badge, slightly larger than the ones issued for prefects. It read in largely printed letters, 'Head Boy'.

This had to be a mistake. Head Boy! Was this a joke? Many of the prefects who had noticed Hemione's entrance turned to see what she had been openly gaping at, some gasping in surprise or anger, and others spitting the words 'Death Eater' venomously, fingers flexing in preparation to grab their wand at a seconds notice. Ernie Macmillan even took a furious step forward, Hannah holding him back by the arm. Had nobody noticed him there, sitting alone in the back of the room? A few of the prefects had returned their gaze to Hermione, waiting tensely for her reaction. Hermione cleared her throat loudly, and the remainder of the students snapped their attention back to her.

"Malfoy." Hermione said in a clear, fierce voice. "You aren't welcome here anymore." Her words rung across the silence, and everything was completely still. Malfoy didn't move. He seemed almost like he had expected this treatment, sitting in the far back to postpone the inevitable. His lack of response sent another wave of ferocity through her, and Hermione shouted, "_Leave!_"

This time he moved so fast it almost startled her, his feet flying across the carpeted floor. He reached the door and came to an abrupt halt; standing directly to Hermione's left. Neither of them turned to look at each other, Hermione staring coldly ahead. He swiftly pulled a folded up piece of parchment from his pocket, pressing it into Hermione's palm until she took hold of it. His hands were as cold as his icy demeanor, sending tingles from where he had touched her. With naught but a slight click of the door sliding closed behind her, Malfoy disappeared. Only the whisper of his name from angry lips left any trace of him ever being there. Giving herself a moments pause to get her thoughts organized, Hermione slipped the parchment into her jeans back pocket and pulled out a schedule and flipping to a page filled with tiny, neatly printed words. She cleared her throat again to regain the Prefects attention.

"Welcome new Prefects, and welcome back to those who were previously a Prefect. If you would please, pull out the three ring organizer that you were asked to purchase." There was a shuffle of feet and hands rummaging through bags as the students responded immediately to Hermione's request. It was difficult to enjoy the authority she had over the others while her mind was so cluttered with thoughts of Malfoy. Who in their right mind had let that horrid boy back into Hogwarts? Hermione understood that as Headmistress, Professor McGonagall had the power to do so, but she would be hard pressed to believe that the Gryffindor Head had made that decision in her right mind. What would the parents say about having an admitted Death Eater learning in the same school as their children? He was going to be expelled from Hogwarts immediately; Hermione would make sure of that.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione grabbed hold of her small book bag, pulling it over her shoulder with a quick tug and closing the compartment door behind her. She followed the trail of students lugging themselves off the train slowly, chatting with friends about unimportant things like Quidditch and food. As Head Girl, it was Hermione's job to check the compartments for any stragglers, but her mind was so occupied with other things she doubted she would notice anyone. Malfoys note weighed heavily in her pocket, nagging her mind with the possibilities of what it could say. He'd obviously planned on giving it to her, she just wasn't sure _why _her. Maybe he'd known she was Head Girl this year? Or maybe he gave it to the first one to tell him to bugger off.

Being the last one to exit the train, there were only a few carriages left, each with little room for another passenger. Hermione made a snap decision to walk instead, giving herself time to read the note in private. She wondered where Malfoy had ferreted off to, considering she hadn't seen him since kicking him out of the Prefects Compartment.

When the last carriage rolled by, taking with it offers of transportation from some of the kinder students that she had waved off, Hermione carefully reached into her back pocket and removed the folded parchment. She took a seat on a large flat rock, resting her elbows on her knees and unfolding the parchment carefully. To her surprise, there was a news article about the Malfoy family that Hermione hadn't seen before, doubled up on the inside. She set Malfoy's note aside to read the article.

There was a moving picture of a strong upstanding Mr. Malfoy, standing next to his beautiful upstanding wife. Between them was a familiar upstanding boy, looking stuck-up and well cared for. Malfoy looked to be about twelve, his blonde hair still slicked back and face round with pre-adolescence. They did not wave, nor smile. Below the family portrait was an article written just three months ago.

" **The Malfoy's Secret Life**

_For years, Malfoy has been a prominent name in wizarding society, well trusted by the Ministry as well as the very citizens of the wizarding world-_" At this Hermione snorted.

"_- so it has come at great surprise to everyone that the Malfoys were in fact high level Death Eaters, who took part in many crimes against both Muggles and fellow wizards. This reporter travelled to the Ministry of Magic itself to view the trial against this well-known wizarding family. When I arrived, I was surprised to find that the youngest Malfoy was also on trial for participation in Death Eater acts, and in fact bore the Dark Mark as well as his parents. As the trial went on, the jury listened as Mrs. Malfoy begged, not for her own freedom, but young Draco Malfoy's. She pled for them to understand that he'd had no choice, that The Dark Lord would have taken Mr. Malfoy's life if he had not taken the Dark Mark. She told that he hadn't been involved in anything; he hadn't taken a single life. [Full trial on page 23] The truth of her words underwent great scrutiny, but in the end Draco was pardoned. His parents though, were shipped off to a long life in Azkaban Prison, where they belong._"

Strangely enough, that last line stuck a chord in Hermione. She felt… pity. Not for the elder Malfoy's of course, but for Draco. Sure, he was an evil little git, but who knows what she would have been like after being raised in an environment such as that. That didn't mean she was going to forgive him though, after all that he'd done. Hermione knew very well that Malfoy had accepted the Dark Mark, and any rough childhood can not be held responsible for _all _of Malfoy's misdeeds. She set the article aside and picked up the other piece of parchment. Words danced across the page in beautiful, swooping black ink. Hermione had to hand it to Draco, he had very nice handwriting.

"_Hermione,"_

-So it _was_ to her! She continued.

"_I know I have no right to ask you for anything. I've been cruel to you and your friends for the entirety of our school years. I have gone from a bullying prat, to a servant of the Dark Lord. I take full responsibility for my actions as well. But, you have to understand that our lives were very different. Imagine growing up believing the color pink was called blue. It is wrong, but every time you see pink, you think blue instead, and no amount of times being told that you are wrong will change that. You grew up believing that bad was bad, and to treat people with kindness. Well, I was raised thinking bad was simply a smarter way to live. I was raised to treat people with indifference or cruelty. I was trained to serve the Dark Lord, and hate those who did not. I know now that this is wrong. And so, when I ask this of you, I beg you to take that in to account. Please Hermione, I would like to finish my education at the same place I started it. I would like to continue to be told that pink is not blue, so maybe I can see it that way too. And I would like to be Head Boy as well, but I understand if that is too much to ask. I know very well how influential you can be, and I beg of you. Please, Hermione, do not make me leave Hogwarts. It's the only home I have left._

_-Draco Malfoy" _

Hermione blanched. Could this boy she had grown up with who bullied and tortured others for his own amusement actually have written this beautiful letter? Was Draco Malfoy truly trying to change? She wasn't sure she believed it, but it rung so true in the words he had written her. Hermione didn't know what to think of the things he had said. Maybe Malfoy wasn't quite as bad as she had thought. What once had been a firm belief in her, she now questioned. It didn't change that he had done so many horrible things, but for the first time Hermione wondered if he was actually evil to his core as she had always deduced him to be. She knew what Ron would have said if he had been here.

"No, 'Moine you have to be joking. This is Malfoy we're talking about! Remember? The one who called you a- …well, the 'M' word all the time? He's a _Death Eater_ for crying out loud! And what's he playing at, calling you '_Hermione_'?"

Hermione shook her head, a slight smile pulling the corners of her lips. Harry was always slightly more reasonable, maybe he would feel a little bit of sympathy. Or maybe he wouldn't.

"Yeah, well my family raised me to believe that magic was bad. They also raised me not to get in anyone else's way and to think that I'm not important. And I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gotten in Voldemorts way? He has no excuse Hermione, and you know it. And who does he think he is calling you '_Hermione_'?"

This actually brought a giggle out of her. She really did miss her overprotective best friends. She wasn't quite sure how she could get through this whole year without them. Of course, Ginny had done it during the Dark Days, which must have been absolutely horrible with those Death Eaters running the place. The thought of Ginny reminded Hermione that she wouldn't be completely alone, that soon Ginny would be joining her back at school. They would be in the same grade this year, seeing as the 6th and 7th years were now combining due to last years faulty teaching and returning 7th years. It was very confusing, but somehow the teachers had fixed their curriculums and gotten all the different year levels back on track. Heaving a sigh, Hermione stood up and began her long trek up to the school that she so loved.

Hermione dragged herself into the Great Hall, tired and annoyed at her decision to walk rather than a nice carriage ride. As soon as she walked through the door though, she straightened up and tried to look like she thought a Head Girl was supposed to; strong, all knowing, and influential. A glance at the almost deserted Slytherin table told her that Malfoy had skipped out on dinner. She wasn't sure how she would deal with him yet. His letter had really spoken to her, but still… Hermione shook herself. She needed to stop thinking about the Malfoy issue and relax for a while.

Neville saw her come in, and waved her over to sit with him and some of the other older Gryffindors, looking strong and very different from his old blundering self. Lavender Brown was completely transformed from the giggling girl Hermione had once known. She had cut her long sandy colored hair to her shoulders and sat, quiet and severe, in great contrast with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas' raucous laughter. Fay Dunbar, another girl in Hermione's year, was holding hands with Dean and joining in with their laughter half heartedly. Pavarti Patil was absent. It was a weird scene to behold, people so familiar to her, yet so changed. She hadn't even known Fay, who preferred the company of Hufflepuffs, and Dean even knew each other! Hermione took a seat next to Neville and across from Lavender and attempted to accept this as her new reality.

She took a moment to observe her surroundings, noticing that there was about half as many students as the previous years. She saw almost no new faces. The Gryffindor table was most definitely the fullest of the four, though greatly reduced from usual size, second largest being the Hufflepuffs. They were pretty well known for their loyalty, Hermione reminded herself. Ravenclaw was about two thirds the size of the Hufflepuff table, while Slytherin had almost no older student's at all. Their table had an almost abandoned look, with about a fifth of their usually student pool.

"I heard most of the Slytherins packed up and left for Durmstrang." Neville told her quietly, noticing where her attention was focused. Hermione nodded, having heard something about that as well. She turned her attention back to Neville, a real smile breaking out on her face at the sight of her good friend.

"How've you been Neville?" Hermione asked him with honest concern. Neville shrugged offhandedly, brushing his hair back a little.

"Alright I suppose, considering. Gran's been extra nice to me lately, keeps making comments about how I'm like my father, and how proud she is of me. I suppose that's a good thing." Hermione nodded. She knew how much Neville's grandmother meant to him, despite what he would sometimes say about her. "What about you, Hermione? How are things going with Ron?" At this, Hermione flushed pink. She didn't really know what was going on between her and Ron, herself.

"Oh, things are getting better. We've all been dealing with, well… You know. Fred. But it's most definitely getting better." Saying Fred's name aloud still stung a little bit, and she felt her eyes burn. She didn't let it show though. Neville nodded slowly, chewing his lip. Bringing up the dead was an easy conversation ender, and they finished their meal in silence. Later on, Hermione looked up as a much grayer looking Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, and the room went quiet.

"Students, I would like to thank those of you who have returned for another year at Hogwarts. It has been very difficult for all of you; I am sure. As for all the new-comer's, we welcome you to your new home. Prefects, if you would please lead the first years to their dormitories now." As McGonagall took her seat again, Hermione took a look at their teachers this year. As usual, Professors' Sprout and Flitwick were present, as well as Hagrid, Professor Bins, and Professors' Vector and Sinistra. Surprisingly, Professor Slughorn was still present, and waved at Hermione cheerily. She gave a halfhearted wave back. Finally she spotted who she presumed to be the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Hermione immediately recognized him as Sturgis Podmore, a member of the Order. All of the teachers looked worn and weary, but had determined looks on their faces.

Then, Hermione realized that this was her chance to speak to Professor McGonagall about Malfoy's resubmission. She may be weary about actually having him removed from the school after reading his letter, but she still wished to hear her Professors' reasoning behind letting him return. She walked purposefully to the teachers table, climbing two steps then stopping respectfully. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Hermione, her severe face softening slightly at the sight of her.

"Ms. Granger?" She asked, her voice crisp and clear as Hermione's first day of her first year. Hermione cleared her throat nervously, flatting out her uniform.

"Professor, I was just wondering if we could talk about this years' Head Boy?" Her voice squeaked on 'Boy', and she shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of all the teachers. McGonagall's face lit with understanding, and she pursed her lips.

"I believe that there isn't anything to discuss, Ms. Granger." She said curtly, and Hermione stuttered.

"B- but Professor-" She cut herself short from the look McGonagall was giving her. Why wouldn't McGonagall talk with her about this?

"Ms. Granger, I have my reasons for accepting Mr. Malfoy back into Hogwarts, as do I have reasons for making him this years Head Boy. I would appreciate if you did not question my authority. I believe you have duties as Head Girl to attend to, Ms. Granger." McGonagall was clearly sending her off, and Hermione turned on her heel, stalking away huffily. Professor McGonagall was being quite rude about the matter; Hermione had simply wished to discuss it with her. She _was _Head Girl. Didn't that give her some right to at least talk about it? It was quite odd, the Headmistress' behavior. Something was up, and Hermione wanted to know what exactly that was.

Neville had waited for her by the entrance, which took Hermione by surprise. He handed her a parchment which Hermione immediately recognized as her class schedule.

"Oh, thank you Neville. You didn't have to wait on me you know." She told him appreciatively. Neville shrugged again.

"Well, the few of us left have to stick together, right?" He said with a half smile. Hermione nodded, and they made their way to the Gryffindor Common Room.

It wasn't until they had reached the portrait hole that Hermione realized with a sudden queasiness, that she didn't want to go inside. She had come to Hogwarts ready to go on with her schooling, ready to pretend everything was normal. But as soon as she entered that room, she knew something in her would break down.

There were too many memories of her best friends, of Fred and George being together, of Colin and Dennis Creevey chasing Harry around with cameras and things to sign. She remembered when her biggest worry was the Charms Exam coming up, and petting her precious bandy legged cat in front of the fireplace. Crookshanks was still at home with the Weasley's, as Hermione couldn't find her this morning, and had to leave her behind with a promise from Mrs. Weasley that they would send her up with Ginny. Hermione had been very distraught, but accepted it and left for school.

She stood, frozen outside the portrait hole. Neville, who had already climbed through, reached a hand gentlemanly to assist her through.

"Hermione, you coming?" He asked, looking confused. She felt her eyes begin to sting, and slowly stepped away from the hole. Neville put one foot back through, unsure of what he should do. "Hermione?"

"I can't." She whispered, taking another step back. Neville shook his head in bewilderment.

"You can Hermione, come on. I'll help you." He took a step towards her, now completely into the corridor, and Hermione took three more backwards, then turned around and dashed down the stairs. She took a turn, then another, then went up a few staircases. Breathing heavily, she slowed her pace to a weak jog, then finally taking slow, wavering steps. She continued this way for a while, dragging a finger down the stone paved wall of the empty corridor she continued to stroll. Hermione had never had such an irrational reaction to anything like that before. It made her feel weak, juvenile. Pathetic. Hermione lived life ruled by logic and reason, not silly feelings. A stifled laugh echoed down the hall, and Hermione quickly straightened up, putting on her Head Girl face. She took a few purposeful strides towards the source of the laughter, catching two Gryffindor boys with their wands lit.

"Excuse me." She said in an authorative voice, placing her hands on her hips. The boys heads shot up, fearful looks on their young faces. " I believe you should be in your common room."

"Oh, um yes Ma'am, right away." The taller one stuttered, and they hurried past her in the direction she had come. She smiled slightly, enjoying the powerful feeling. She enjoyed enforcing the rules, and if she was honest, telling others what to do. She had always been bossy, maybe it was due to being an only child. She continued at a slightly peppier pace, her confidence a little boosted.

After around twenty minutes of simply wondering around the castle, Hermione began to recognize her surroundings. She took a left, and found herself in front of the very familiar portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. Hermione turned around to face the tapestry on the opposite side, an idea quickly forming itself in her head.

Maybe she actually didn't need to live in Gryffindor Tower! She could, instead, simply ask the Room of Requirement for a place to live, and she'd get one! It may take a bit longer to get to her room everyday, but the privacy and utter lack of painful memories would vastly make up for that, she was sure. There was no need to face the dreaded recollections that the Gryffindor Common Room seemed to dreg up. It was strange, she thought, that she could deal with all the other parts of this school. But the Common Room, it unlocked a door that leads to pure pain and misery for her. It was decided, then.

Hermione walked back and forth in front of the tapestry, thinking to herself over and over that she needed a room to live in. Her old room from the house she had grown up in flashed into her mind, and she felt a deep ache inside her heart. Hermione missed her home and her parents with their goofy antics. They had this little nick-name for her that had embarrassed her to pieces when she was younger. What she would give to hear them call her by it again now... She reminded herself to have patience, though. She would soon be reunited with them; as soon as she was sure it was safe.

On the third walk by the tapestry, she turned to find an ornate door twisting and forming itself in the bricks. She smiled, proud of her genius idea, and turned the doorknob slowly. The door creaked open to show a beautifully decorated room, which surprised Hermione. She had figured that it would have turned out somewhat like her own room, but instead there was a three part living space that looked expensive and tasteful. On the far left side of the room was a king sized bed with a wooden carved frame, and a split level floor that led to a plush leather couch, small bookshelves on either side of it. There was one wall separating a small kitchen from the living room, leaving a wide doorway and giving Hermione a good view of a charming cherry wood table seated for one. It was absolutely wonderful; everything was beautiful and perfect for her, though she hadn't even known to ask for it.

Hermione had taken two excited steps into the dream room, when she noticed with a heart stopping jolt that Draco Malfoy was standing, indecent, in the doorway of _her _bathroom. His silvery blond hair was damp, crystals of water hanging of the tips that hung loosely over his forehead. He wore only a pair of denim jeans hanging low on his hips, leaving his entire upper body, pale and glistening, displayed for any and all to see. Of course, he probably hadn't been expecting any visitors. Hermione caught herself staring for a moment, before shaking it off and turning away, a rouge color flushing to her cheeks.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here? Put some robes on, or-" She stuttered for a moment, her eyes flitting up to Malfoys much over exposed self. "Or something!" She finally cried exasperatedly, attempting to use her Head Girl attitude to mask her embarrassment. It was difficult when she was blushing scarlet and refusing to look at him.

"I didn't want to stay in the Slytherin Commons; if it it's all the same to you, _Head Girl_." There was a slightly snarky undertone to his calling her by her official title. He seemed to be ignoring her plea for his decency. Hermione realized that they were in the very same situation, perhaps with different reasons behind it. She could imagine it would be hard for him to stay in his old dorms as well, she wasn't even sure if any of the other Slytherin boys in Malfoy's year had returned.

"Well I'm not quite sure if you being in this sort of living arrangement is allowed, we would have to check in the Hogwarts Rule-" She began hypocritically, but Malfoy scoffed loudly.

"Are you kidding me, Granger? You've obviously come here for the same reason." He snapped, crossing his arms haughtily over his chest. "That is, unless you just wanted to see me." Hermione really didn't appreciate the disturbing suggestion that she had other motives to be here. How could this pretentious, rude boy possibly have written her such a beautiful letter?

"Don't be ridiculous, you conceited pig." Is what she managed to respond, clutching the shoulder strap of her bag closer to her. Malfoy simply rolled his eyes, leaning against the bathroom doorframe.

"Then tell me. What are you doing here exactly?" Hermione bit her lip, bowing her head slightly in shame.

"Well… the same as you, I suppose." She said quietly. For a moment they stood there, Hermione's gaze still trained on the floor. Malfoy groaned in annoyance, shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

"Then I guess you'll be staying here?" He asked her, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Hermione's head shot up, but Malfoy wouldn't look at her. He mussed his still damp hair. "I could leave, I suppose." Her eyes widened, and she felt the need to pinch herself and see if she was dreaming. Malfoy was willing to leave, despite having been here first? She stared at him with her mouth gaping, but then quickly closed it. She wanted to stay here, but it felt wrong to kick Malfoy out. For once, Hermione didn't know what to say.

"Or…" Malfoy started, but he cut himself short. "No, never mind. Stupid idea." He seemed to be almost talking to himself, but Hermione found herself nervously tapping her fingers together. Could he seriously be considering what she thought he was?

"Wait, what were you going to say?" She pushed him. There was no way he could actually be thinking about that. Malfoy's gray eyes met with hers, looking almost… embarrassed. He ran a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.

"We could both. Stay here I mean, we could both stay here." He said quickly, and then flinched as if ready for Hermione to hit him. She stared at him, his eyes still closed. This was crazy and stupid, and just overall a bad idea. It was Draco Malfoy, and he couldn't be trusted.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy? Is this some plan you're hatching to… to-" Hermione wavered, and Draco snapped at her.

"To _what_, exactly? What could I possibly gain from having little Miss Perfect as a roommate? Riddle me _that_ Granger." She seemed to have offended him. Malfoy paced back and forth between the bed and the bathroom door, looking agitated. "Look, I know you all hate me okay? And maybe I deserve it, but-"

"_Maybe?_" Hermione cried angrily, flinging her arms out to the sides in incredulity. "Malfoy, you were a horrible abomination for a human being for the past seven years, what could you possibly expect?" Malfoy froze, facing the bed with his back turned towards her. He clenched his fists at his sides.

"I know who I am, you don't have to remind me." He spat, turning back towards her. He took a few flying steps in her direction, and Hermione's muscles tensed. "I know who I _was_." Quickly he raised his arm and she flinched back before realizing his true intent. For a second Malfoy stopped after seeing her reaction, and the pain in his eyes was palpable. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at his raised arm. A swish, and there appeared a faded tattoo of a skull with a snake twisting its way around it. The Dark Mark. Hermione stared at it, her eyes burning slightly. "You see, this pretty little reminder won't ever let me forget it."

"Yeah, I have a reminder of who I am as well." Hermione said coolly, pulling up her own sleeve. On her left forearm was the word 'Mudblood', carved there by Bellatrix's wickedly pointed blade; the very same blade that stole away Dobby's life. Malfoy stood stock still, staring at the pink words that had been put there in his own home, by his own aunt.

"I… I'm sorry." He whispered, lowering his own arm. Malfoys gaze was trapped, unmoving on the marred skin of her forearm. He was transfixed for a moment, a crease forming between his brows.

Malfoy took a small, hesitant step closer. After a moment, when he saw Hermione hadn't recoiled, he took a few more. He was standing directly in front of her. Slowly, Malfoy's hand reached up to touch the pale skin of Hermione's arm, his hand shaking very slightly. When he touched the 'M' with his forefinger, a jolt of electricity shot up and down Hermione's body, and she suddenly felt it was difficult to breathe. Malfoy was suddenly very close to Hermione, in her opinion, but she made no move to draw back. Malfoy slowly traced the word with his finger, his face hidden by platinum locks. "I am so sorry… Hermione." He had called her by her name for the very first time. The word sounded strange coming from her enemies mouth, and it hung in the air. It was almost like Malfoy had sent up a white flag, surrendering their row. Hermione sighed softly, watching his finger shape the hurtful letters.

"I forgive you." She said quietly, and as soon as the words left her lips, she knew it was true. She had wanted to tell him to bugger off, that he didn't deserve to be forgiven after everything that had happened. But this boy in front of her looked like a mere shell of his former self, alone and scared, rejected by society. Like him? No. Trust him? Definitely not. But forgive him? Yes, she did forgive him. And that was the first step, she supposed.

Draco removed his hand suddenly, taking a step backward. Perhaps he'd realized that he was stroking the arm of a girl, alone in a room, shirtless and wet. Hermione pulled her sleeve down uneasily, shifting her weight in discomfort.

"Well… If we could maybe get the Room to split up into two different bedrooms, then maybe it could work… maybe. For now, at least." Malfoy looked at her unbelievingly for a moment, and then quickly looked away, crossing his arms.

"So you'll be staying here. I mean, we'll be living here… together?" He stammered, and Hermione almost enjoyed having made him feel uneasy about something.

"I suppose I will… If that's still okay with you of course." She looked away awkwardly, and he shrugged.

"Well, if you're alright with that, I mean I guess. That's fine with me." He seemed to be questioning her sanity, which didn't bother her as she was doing the same to him. Had his apology really changed the fact that they despised each other? "What changed your mind about me staying at Hogwarts?" Malfoy asked after a moment or two, and Hermione felt her insides shift uncomfortably.

"Who says it's changed?" She asked him impassively, and Malfoy seemed to tense. Hermione didn't know what her mind had decided quite yet. Anyways, it wasn't as if Professor McGonagall would let her get a word in edgewise, but that was something Hermione could keep to herself.

"Oh." Was all he said, and they stood for a moment in awkward silence. Suddenly there was a shift in the ground, and Hermione grabbed onto the doorframe for balance. The whole room had begun shifting and twisting, with walls growing up from the soft carpeted floor around the beautiful bed Hermione had seen, and on the opposite side of the room. The size of the living quarters had doubled, and they stared in wonder as everything around them morphed before their eyes.

She might be a Muggle-born, but this seemed too amazing to be true. Malfoy too, seemed to be awed by the magic surrounding them as well. The floor stopped moving beneath her feet, and Hermione let go of the doorframe. They stood for a second, taking in the changes to the room. Hermione glanced at Malfoy, who had looked at her at the same time, and they both quickly looked away.

"Well, uh… night." Malfoy said awkwardly after a moment, then tuned on his heel and opened his new mahogany door. It closed with a click behind him, and Hermione breathed out a disbelieving sigh. Hadn't she wanted to get Malfoy expelled just hours ago? And now, here she was, sharing a living space with him. She really needed to sort out her priorities.


End file.
